


Confined Space

by Killaway



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killaway/pseuds/Killaway
Summary: Jacob soon learns more than he could have possibly imaginedMy version on what happens when the house is on lockdown.





	1. Day One

The first day of lockdown was the most unpredictable. Most of the smaller children, who weren't allowed outside ran around the house, knocking things down. A few vases were broken, and almost a window; which was luckily stopped by an observant Peregrine. 

Olive took off her shoes, floating to the ceiling in order to keep the children entertained. Emma had to help Olive with her task, which left Jacob to wander the house practically alone. 

This caused Jacob's curiosity to wander. And this curiosity brought Jacob to the door leading to the basement. 

"I should warn you," Millard's voice appeared from an empty, which isn't so empty space. It made Jacob jump, retracting his hand from the doorknob. "If you go down there, Enoch may not be in the best of moods."

"Meaning?" Jacob was skeptical of the others reluctance to Enoch, he seemed dark and mysterious, yes, but not to the degree everyone acted like. 

"Enoch has been known to, how to put this, be violent." Millard finished, patting Jacob's shoulder with an unseen hand, before walking away. 

Jacob listened for the last of Millard's footsteps before he turned back to the basement door. He placed one hand on the door, and the other on the doorknob. He stayed silent, listening for movement behind the door, which Jacob could hear, before rapping on the surface. The sounds stopped, suddenly, which made Jacob hesitant to open the door. 

But, he does.

Or rather, as he goes to open it, its being open from the other side already. 

"What do you want?" Enoch's sharp voice demanded, as his deep brown eyes caught Jacob's cobalt. His hand was resting on the door frame, which would have effectively blocked Jacob from seeing what was behind him, if Enoch wasn't as short as he was compared to Jacob. 

"I-I, um," Jacob wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want anything, rather he was just curious. Enoch raised a brow, looking bored. 

"Did the Bird send you to watch me?" He sounded accusing, as though she'd done it before. Which, from the way the others talk about Enoch, has probably happened.

"N-No. I was just, um, curious?" Jacob didn't sound sure and he wasn't. Enoch smirked, his cocoa hair falling into his eyes slightly. 

"Curious? About me, or what I do?" He asked, pushing his curled locks from his face, a smug look about him. 

"Both." Jacob responded. 

Enoch paused, before giving a soft scoff. He shook his head, seemingly mumbling something under his breath as he walked back down the wooden steps; leaving the door wide open, granting Jacob a welcome to enter. 

So, Jacob took those shaky steps down into Enoch's space, after entering and closing the door. Effectively caging himself. It was musty with dust, and cluttered. Objects littered the floor and shelves, along with the jars of organs lining the shelves. 

Jacob had been down here before. Both in the future and past. However, he hadn't gotten a good scan of the area. What caught his eye however, was the large group of clay figures on Enoch's desk. Most had been carved, their chests wide open. Mouse organs like lungs and hearts were pressed into the cavity, and it soon became clear to Jacob what Enoch was planning. 

"Where do you get so many?" Jacob asked, not noticing what Enoch had been setting up in the next room. 

"So many what?" Enoch questioned in response, placing a toy house on the floor. 

"Orga- What are you doing?" Jacob stepped over to stand next to the exposed door frame, eyes tracking around the small makeshift village Enoch was constructing.

"Its the town." He said it as though it was the most obvious thing, and Jacob supposed he knew that, since Enoch had laid the toys out exactly the town was. 

"What's if for?"

"Fighting."

Jacob furrowed his brows, glancing over at a self satisfied Enoch, who stepped away from his finished town, and back toward Jacob. He mulled over his work for a moment, before walking back to his desk. Jacob followed in tow. 

Enoch sat at a stool, and gestured to another one on the other side of the desk. Jacob mimicked Enoch and sat. The older male prodded at one of the clay figures with his finger. He held it there momentarily, before the small heart began to twist, and the lung pumped. 

The small figure jumped up to his feet, before promptly being pushed back down by Enoch.

Jacob was going to asks what he was doing, but Enoch pressed together the clay that made the small creature, covering its open chest cavity. He then pulled back, and the figure rose back to its feet. It walked around the desk, eyeing the lifeless others around him. 

"What do you do with them all?"

"Fighting." Enoch echoed, which made Jacob sigh. 

"Anything else?"

"What else is there to do?" Enoch inquired seriously, tilting his head thinking. And honestly, Jacob was stumped. Of course there was more to do, but nothing he could think of. So he stayed silent. "Jacob, why are you curious? Or rather, what specifically made you curious?" 

"Just what your pow-" Jacob was eyed, "peculiarity can do." Enoch seemed skeptical. 

"I have the ability to give things life, you know that." 

"I know but, is there anything else? Like healing or..?" Enoch deadpanned, which signaled for Jacob to stop talking, which he did. 

The smaller sighed, watching the even smaller figure run around the area. It seemed frantic, shoving the clay men, hoping one other would be alive. And Enoch's appearance became deadly. His eyes were locked on the figure sadistically. Jacob watched carefully, as Enoch's expression changed. And the tiny clay human began to run, it ran toward the tables edge.

"Enoch! What is it doing?" Jacob frantically questioned, lifting his hands up instinctively to catch the clay man if it falls. Yet, Enoch pushed his hand away, letting the clay figure fall off the table, and to its quick death. "Why did you let it do that?"

"Because its fun. Its entertainment. Much better that whatever those gobshites could come up with." His accent was laid out thick, which Jacob accustomed with Enoch being irritated. "Not like I can't just bring him back." 

"That's not sane Enoch, its not-"

"Not what? It doesn't matter, they're not people, they're made of clay Jacob. They didn't have lives to being with."

And Enoch had a point, much to Jacob's dismay. 

"I don't like it."

"Oh piss off. You don't need to like it. I could care less." Jacob sighed, dropping his head into his crossed arms on the table. 

"I'm trying to understand. And I probably do, I just... I don't know." Jacob pleaded, but sounded defeated. Enoch listened, but didn't say anything, rather he continued to mold shapes of clay into human figures. Jacob watched in silent appreciation. 

Enoch's hands worked the same way an artist's did, molding and shaping something without characteristics into something familiar. And his long fingers were that of a puppeteer or pianist's. It was truly astonishing, and Jacob loved watching every moment. 

And the two sat in a strangely rough comfortable silence. The air was think, yet not aggravating. They sat there for what seemed an hour, Enoch directing Jacob every so often to a jar he needed, that sat behind the boy. And soon enough, Enoch had created a small army of the clay men. 

"Are you staying for dinner?" Enoch asked suddenly, as he positioned the group of creations on one side of his desk. 

"I shouldn't. I promised dad to be home before dinner." Jacob hadn't been looking at Enoch and rather had taken a piece of clay to mold into a small dog. The seventeen hundred year old male hadn't said anything about it, and continued to do so.

"Emma would enjoy your company." He said quite bitterly. And Jacob was hit with a sudden realization.

_Enoch is jealous._

"What about you?" Jacob dared, planting an innocent smile on his face, as he tore his gaze from the clay model to Enoch's dark eyes. 

"What about me, I couldn't care less."

"You're lying." 

Enoch's eyes suddenly turned violent again, however, they were directed toward Jacob this time. 

 _"I couldn't care less if you suddenly and violently died."_ Malice held in Enoch's voice spoke more that the words themselves. And Jacob was frightened to say anything else, lest he send Enoch off in a fit. "You're just like him."

Jacob wanted to retort and refuse, that he was nothing like his grandfather, he wouldn't leave, not when they were family...

Would he?

Instead, Jacob held his tongue and let Enoch continue, glare and all.

"You both come 'ere and fancy yourself up with the fire girl, make friends with the blokes, then pander o'ff never to be seen again." His accented voice dripped venom that Jacob recognized were for Abe, and not him. "Right pricks."

"I won't. I promise." Jacob started, which surprised Enoch into silence. "I won't just leave, I will come back. I promise." And he smiled, which started a look of rare vulnerability in Enoch. The small male looked ready to cry, or break something, or both. 

"I hate him..." He said it so softly, Jacob hadn't realized that Enoch said anything at all for a moment. 

"I-I..." Jacob had nothing to respond with. He understood, yet, he didn't. 

"Leave." Jacob was confused, until a dangerous Enoch stood from his stool and stalked closer to the sixteen year old. "Go now!" And Jake didn't need to be told twice, he rapidly got to his feet and rushed past Enoch. He bolted for the stairs and hurriedly reopened the door and exited. 

 

 

Jacob left Enoch's domain, only to run into the arms of a concerned looking Emma. 

"I heard Enoch yelling and managed to get Millard to tell me where you were. Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?" Her voice was soft and worried, while Jacob regained his breath. 

"No, no. I'm fine."  _Huff_. "He didn't hurt me."  _Huff._ "It was my fault anyways. I brought up something better left dead."

Those words hit home, hard. Had he meant them to be so symbolic?

He doubted that brilliantly. 

But, was it true? Would it be better to bury his grandfather's past? If he wanted a fresh start, had he needed to bury anything Abe build here? Bury that, and this obsession that Emma had with him, which wasn't even himself she was after? 

Was that what Enoch wanted?

Was that what he himself wanted? A new beginning where it was his path, and not Abe's legacy he was continuing. 

Maybe...

And maybe, that's exactly what he'd do.


	2. Day Two

The second day, everyone was more on edge than ever before. They were all huddled in small, different groups, whispering to themselves. Jacob soon learned the reason why.  
  
_Enoch_.   
  
Unbeknownst to Jacob, Enoch suffers from episodes of depression, in which he locks himself in his room, refuses to eat, talk or leave.   
  
And that sounded familiar. It sounded like himself before he left for the island. But, it also sounded like a case of manic depression. Which, if the case, would explain a lot about Enoch's behavior. He also realized that this was exactly what Millard was warning him about. However, Jacob understood, he understood better than anyone here, probably.       
  
So, with a probably suicidal determination, Jacob ignored the warnings from the others; and Emma's arm holding pleas to just "leave him alone", and stormed into Enoch's room.   
  
Stormed wasn't the proper term.   
  
Rather, Jacob carefully walked in, closing the door behind him quietly, while calling out a soft "Enoch?"      
  
The room smelt exactly like the basement and was covered in layers of dust like it too. It was clear that the room hadn't been cleaned in who knows how long; Jacob wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. The others had claimed that something died in his room, and from what Jake could see, that 'thing' was a lump on the bed in the room's center. It was a mess of sheets and blankets, in the shape of a person.        
  
That lump was moving.       
  
It's breathing.      
  
That lump isn't dead.   
  
_That's Enoch._   
  
Taking a tentative step forward, Jake called out again. "Enoch? Hey..." He was responded with the pile shifting; Enoch shifted away from Jacob. "Come on, I promised I'd be back, and well, I'm here." His voice was comforting, and yet shaky. After the necromancer's blow up yesterday-today, Jake was weary, afraid that this outburst was due to him.         
  
Was that a selfish thought?   
  
He walked over to the bed, before sitting down. The pile of blankets' movement accommodated for this new weight. And Jacob heard an almost whisper response.   
  
"Eighty-four three hundred big-face."   
  
Jacob was more than confused.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Means go'way and fuck o'ff."   
  
Jacob rolled his eyes, chuckling. It'd take more than some Irish slang insults in order for him to be detoured. He reached a hand out a shoved Enoch slightly.   
  
_A bad idea._   
  
Enoch sat up suddenly and pulled his hand from under the covers in order to punch Jake square in the face.      
  
Jacob groaned and stumbled backward, off the bed. When he pulled his hand away from his throbbing nose, dots of blood painted his fingertips, while Enoch just laid back down, covering his head.   
  
"Okay, I suppose I deserved that." His face hurt, and Enoch was the cause of it, even if Jake did indeed deserve it.   
  
That, well, it stung; worse than his face currently.   
  
"Enoch, whatever I did I'm sorry." The lump pulled back the blanket slightly, just enough that Enoch's accusing eyes could watch Jacob, while the rest of him was still hidden away. And if Jake was being honest, Enoch looked adorable, his hair messy, dark circles around his already deep set eyes, making him look more tired than irritated.   
  
"Piss off Jacob." Jacob sighed, which came out like 'kshh' due to his bleeding nose. Enoch raised a brow, holding back an amused smile. "You've got blood on your shirt, and face."       
  
Jake could still feel the warm liquid in his throat and as it fell down, coating his lips with the iron tasting crimson. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, painting it with red.     
  
“And who's fault is that.” Enoch's face fell and he scowled, mumbling something Jake couldn't comprehend. “Enoch come on. I said I was sorry.” The necromancer closed his eyes, and Jacob felt the wave of violence wafting off him, and he realized Enoch was stopping himself from possibly attacking Jake. “Okay. You're in a bad mood, I'll just leave.”   
  
He got a few feet closer to the room's exit, when Enoch's voice mumbled something under his breath. Jake stopped, midway reaching for the doorknob, and cast his eyes back to the male, whom was now sitting up, raking a hand through mused raven hair. They sat in the awkward silence for a moment, which was likely more awkward on Jacob's part than Enoch, who was watching Jake intensely with expressionless chocolate orbs.   
  
“The door's locked.”   
  
“What?” Enoch huffed, pushing himself off his bed in order to walk up next to Jacob and open the door, or at least attempt to. A click sound was audible from the door's lock, which effectively stopped the exit and entrance from becoming open.   
  
“They always lock the door when I'm like this.” And Jake inspected Enoch's face, still expressionless, before responding.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Safer?” Enoch shrugged and sluggishly wandered back to his bed. And while it wasn't the answer Jake was looking for, it made some kind of sense. Enoch's not necessary a collected person, he tends to have somewhat violent outbursts when he gets frustrated. But, yet, a kinda violent person, who has episodes of depression is locked in his own room for safety? For who? Enoch doesn't seem the type to result in self harm, but Jacob did think himself in that category either; the markings from constantly scratching on his arms would disagree.   
  
“And they do this every time?”   
  
“What lock me in?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Every time.”

“Are they _idiots_?” Enoch's eyes widened and he couldn't stop himself from laughing. And Jesus, why didn't this boy do that more often? His laugh sounded like music that cut through the tension in the air. Jacob smiled, letting out a small chuckle himself. He was glad that Enoch laughed on his behalf.

“I've been asking myself that for quite a long time.” Jake nodded, as Enoch slowly became serious again. Jacob found it sad that enjoyment only seemed to last in single moments like that to the smaller male.

Sighing, Jake could feel the caking blood inside his nose, it irritated him. He forced himself to sneeze, which made spots of the crimson to splatter the wall. Enoch watched in silence, head tilted tightly, eyes half lidded once more.

“How much sleep do you get?” Jake found himself asking, he didn't think beforehand and hoped Enoch wouldn't get violent again. Luckily, instead Enoch just huffed, slouching, an odd action for him as he normally keeps his posture as neat as possible, before walking sluggishly back to his bed.

“No idea.” The male muttered into his pillow after falling down onto the bed, which seemed to sink from his weight, as if he weighed at least a ton. Jacob casually followed Enoch, and slipped under the blanket covering the bed. Jake could feel Enoch's eyes on him, as he stared at the ceiling. The necromancer shifted so he was on his side, continuing to watch Jake, hands resting near his face, almost as if hiding it.

Taking a guess, Jacob lifted the blanket open to Enoch, and after a moment of nothing, he felt movement before the fabric being taken from his hand. However, he jumped slightly when something cold made contact with his bare foot. And he realized it was Enoch's. Jake turned to him, only to see him curling up even closer. 

At first it surprised, maybe even frightening Jake at how close Enoch was.

But, something in his mind quickly disposed of those thoughts, replacing them with affection and care.

And Jake did indeed care for the boy next to him. He cared so much to worry about how much sleep he was getting, or if he was eating, hurting himself, even if he was being treated okay.

These thoughts kept Jake from moving as Enoch hesitantly wrapped an arm across his chest. When Jacob didn't react, Enoch cuddled into his side and let out a long breath.

“You're warm.” Enoch spoke, albeit muffled, Jake chuckled.

“You're cold.” The smaller male frowned, but pressed closer, resting his head against Jake's shoulder. “And cuddly.” Jake breathed, voice hitching tightly as Enoch brought his leg up and wrapped it around his waist.

And he felt Enoch smirk.

“Didn’t you know Portman that it is rude to talk while someone is trying to sleep.”

“Oh. So that's what you're trying to do? I thought you were trying to strangle me,” Jake looked down at their interwoven bodies, “in a very complicated way.”

“I should strangle you. I would save me the pain of your incessant talking."

“You enjoy it.” Jake heard a small scoff, followed by a laugh. Enoch glanced up at him.

“I do.”


	3. Day 3: Part 1

The third day was calm, and Jacob hadn't even realized when it came.

His night was spent cuddled up with Enoch, neither saying anything for a long time, embracing the collected silence. Enoch had shifted, head pressed to Jake's chest, and Jake moved to sit up somewhat, arms wrapped around Enoch's frame.

Enoch sat still, while Jacob rubbed small patterns into Enoch's skin. Quite a long amount of time passed before either spoke.

“Rhythmical.” Enoch said suddenly, fingers beginning to tap. Jake furrowed his brows, glancing down at the boy.

“What is?”

“Your pulse. It's relaxing.” Jake's breath hitched silently, body tensing, fingers freezing. “Stutters.” Enoch scoffed amused, lifting his head to inspect Jacob.

“Enoch…” The raven haired male pushed himself closer to Jacob, faces mere inches apart, body covering Jake's. The younger blushed and tried to look away, yet he was transfixed on the ever changing of Enoch's pupils. They expanded momentarily, but shifted as the irises bounced from one area to the next.

 

They sat there, both watching the other intensely, until a knock broke the atmosphere.

“Mr. O’Connor, Mr. Portman, dinner.” Miss. Peregrine's voice spoke, a knowing tone. Then a click, before footsteps.

 

Enoch moved away from Jake, standing up from the bed, hidden flusters, as he realized how compromising he was being. Jacob watched him with a weary smile, but the time period and year flashed through his mind, making any amusement falter.

“Enoch?” His voice was comforting and worried, as he got off the bed himself.

“Don't.” Swatting away Jake's hand, he hid his face. “Céard a bhí ag smaoineamh orm?” The thick Irish accent was back, this time though, he slipped to speak in Irish completely and refused to even glare at Jake. “Íosa, sealbh ort féin Enoch.”

Jacob stood awkwardly, waiting for the shorter male to explain or translate, but that thought was violently shot down.

“Jacob just go.”

So much for that progress.

 

What got Enoch so shaken? Was any form of Homophobia still prevalent? Is that why Enoch's so antisocial?

_ Shit. _

 

Jacob silently left the room, only taking one last glance at the boy, who continued to speak to himself in the separate language. He closed the door, and slammed his head against the wood. It hurt, but it was a welcome distraction from the angered and frustrated thoughts rushing through his mind.

 

Did the others really consider Enoch a freak, just because he's, well, clearly affection to guys? Was that why Enoch had a falling out with Abe? Or why he always spoke so fondly when talking about Victor? 

Because if so, Jacob was gonna need to have a serious talk with the others. If that would even do anything. 

 

The sting of pain broke him from his thoughts, that and the confused and equally concerned look he was receiving from Olive.

“Uh, Jake, I don't think that's how you use doors.”

“What? O-oh. Um, I, I know? Sorry.” He collected himself then proceeded to blurt out, “Is Enoch gay?” Taken aback momentarily, Olive pondered the question then nodded. “Who knows?”

“Just me.”

And Jake realized that Olive was indeed the only other person Enoch interacted with. He was constantly around her, when he wasn't locked away alone somewhere.

“Was he in love with Abe? Or Victor?”

“Jake!” She sighed. “These aren't questions you should be asking me.” Walking up to Jacob, her hand landed on his shoulder. “I can't say much, other than it's a problematic topic. One that Enoch doesn't handle very well.”

Great.

 

Dinner was, strange to say the least.

Olive may be the only person who knows for sure, but it's clear the others had their own theories. As Jacob was pelted with questions as soon as he sat down.

“How violent was he?”

“Not very.”

“What does it look like in there?”

“Just like the basement, but with a bed.”

“Did he do anything to you?”

“Uh…” 

Luckily at that moment, Emma walked in. Unfortunately, she became giddy at the sight of Jacob, and sat down next to him. Grabbing his arm, she gave him an odd hug, before huffing.

“Your nose is bruised. I knew he'd do something. He's just a violent bully.” Jake tore his arm away, and had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting at her. Defensively, he did give her a glare, irritated by their seemingly collected opinion of Enoch.

He's so much more than what they act like he is.

The room was active with chatter, as their attention divided from Enoch when Hugh walked in, bees buzzing loudly. 

Jake was gladly given a chance to ponder over his thoughts, ignoring Emma's constant babble next to him. Honestly she irritated the hell out of him.

Horace then joined, looking dapper as he almost always did, in his tapered suit. He took one glance around the room, and grimaced when he saw Jacob’s expression. He maneuvered the room and stopped Emma in her rant about how annoying the younger peculiars could be.

“Emma, you look atrocious.” She scoffed. A fair response, considering she was wearing a pale blue gown, which fell to her ankles, a ruffle at the sleeves before falling like silk to her wrists. “Perhaps you should change.”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, yes, to me.” She rolled her eyes, before standing and stomping away, muttering about looking fine.

Horace then sat down where Emma just left, watching her, before turning to Jacob. “Sorry about that. She looked like she was being a bother.”

“Thanks.”

“So. How is Enoch?” Jake couldn't make out Horace's intention, his face indifferent as if he was speaking about the weather and not another person.

“As well as he could be.” Horace continued to look almost bored by the topic, but nodded.

“I suppose that's well, considering…” He trailed off and seemed to be considering something. With a sigh, he eyed Jacob seriously. “Jacob. Your… relationship with Enoch, it's, relieving to say the least.”

Jacob cocked his head with confused curiosity. Horace was never one to talk directly to Jake.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, since Abe left Enoch became detached and cynical. He still experiences his fits of anger, always has since he left his old home.” Horace smiled pitifully, as if recalling an old memory. “Before Enoch came to live with us, I had a dream, rather a prophecy. It was an image of both him and a boy. At first I thought the boy was Abe, since he looked like him, but it couldn't have been. He acted so differently.”

Jake had an idea of where this was going.

“He and Enoch were practically inseparable; flashes of scenes of them doing everything together. Of course I was very glad that Enoch, the dark and mystical boy whom was described as bleak and unemotional by the other home's residents, was so happy seeming.” Horace took a drink of water, before turning to look Jake dead in the eyes. “After meeting you, I knew that boy is you. However, at the very end of the dream, I also saw a rather, intimate display. A kiss, between you two.”

 

_ Could _ Jacob kiss Enoch? Would he? Of course he would, the idea wasn't appalling. Besides, it's not as though he wasn't just cuddling very openly with the male a few minutes ago.

_ Of course _ .

It’s not like he almost pressed his lips against the pale ones that were so very close to his only mere moments ago.

 

Horace looked shocked by the lack of surprise from Jacob, but something settled in his mind and he smiled.

“You've already done something like that haven't you?”

It was rhetorical, since Horace didn't need an answer.

 

Jacob just glanced away and picked at the hem of his shirt, which smelled like dust and charcoal; like Enoch.

When Emma returned, Jake was lost in thought, Horace long gone to his own seat. But, Enoch had also emerged from his room as Emma walked back in, clothing resembling a nightgown.

Emma, as expected sat next to Jake once more, and began to rant once more. Enoch however glared at her, and proceeded to sit on Jacob's other side with a huff. 

 

And then Miss. Peregrine stepped in and began dinner. 

 

“How is everyone tonight?” She asked, voice rising over the normal commotion, making everyone hush in order to answer. 

As they gave their responses, Jacob stole a look at Enoch. He was silently stabbing his food with his fork, irritation wafting off him in damaging waves.

Taking a guess, Jake placed his hand on Enoch's thigh from under the table, causing Enoch to tense and glance at Jacob. Neither spoke, but Enoch relaxed, going as far as to place his own hand on top of Jake's. Jacob sighed in relief softly, interlacing their fingers, much like Emma had done to his other hand.

Speaking of which, he tugged out of her grip, and placed it on the table. Her expression was offended at first, so Jake picked up his fork and began eating, and it became relaxed again.

He really needed to talk about personal space with her. Maybe that's a little hypocritical.

_ No. _

Emma has an obsession, invading Jake's personal space without a care. 

Jacob is comforting Enoch in the only way that works with him, physical reassurance.

Jacob squeezed Enoch's hand momentarily, and it was returned by Enoch shifting closer, knees touching.

 

And it seemed whatever worry Enoch had earlier he either talked himself out of, or it was forgotten about for the course of dinner. 


	4. Day 3: Part 2

After dinner, after getting pelted by accusing glances as well as a few knowing ones, Enoch led Jacob, without Emma realizing to the living room. It was as Jake remembered it the first time Horace's dream was on display. Including the projector, which said male stepped up to. His fingers trailed over the machine, setting it up. 

Jake was forced to sit on the couch next to Emma, but was relieved when Enoch crossed his legs and sat in front of the couch, practically a barrier between Emma and Jake.

 

The relaxation of Emma not constantly invading his personal space was very much welcome.

He'd have to thank Enoch later.

Emma was disappointed, but was afraid of angering Enoch, so she said nothing.

 

When everyone was settled in, Horace placed a small cylindrical device up to his eye, and fixed in in place with a wire. Then he turned the projector's lever, which forced out a light that shone on the screen.

The image stopped on a dream of clothing, which was normal for Horace. However, a few things were different. One, there was way too much detail for a dream, even one of Horace’s. Secondly, every action he made looked too forced and deliberate. 

 

As though he's hiding his actual dream. 

 

It confused Jacob, but he made no noise against it. Apparently, Enoch had also noticed this, since he shifted, pressing an arm against Jacob's leg, grabbing his attention. Looking down, Enoch mouthed silent words, ‘what's wrong with him?’; Jake could only shrug in response.

As the dream continued, it was even more evident the events were fake. Dream Horace left his closest and entered the gardens and explored the herbs and vegetables; uninteresting, unlike his actual dreams. 

Eventually Horace turned the projector off, before insisting that everyone get some much needed rest. The younger children groaned, before complying. Jake stood, ready to leave the room himself, when a small tug at his leg stopped him. Enoch pulled back his hand before anyone noticed, and gestured at Horace, before standing himself.

The two stalked up to Horace, trapping him in a corner unintentionally. Neither said a word until everyone had left the room. To which Enoch spoke first. 

“You're hiding something.” Horace turned, brows furrowed. 

“Speak for yourself, considering whom you actually are, Enoch.” Said male hitched his breath, cheeks flushing; an odd contrast to his porcelain features.

“Well, whatever the reason, there is one. All we want to know, is what it is.” Jake spoke up, returning the conversation back to Horace. 

“As much as your concern is appreciated, Mr. Portman,”  _ ouch “ _ it's neither of your business.” And he moved to leave, pushing past them both, but stopped at the door's frame “Although, perhaps you have a right to know.” Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out a leather bound book. “Here. The latest entry.” Then, after handing it to Jake, he left. 

They both inspected the journal, the binding was black, and a silver clasp held it shut. Pages were sticking out the top, and it was clearly overfilled. 

He was hesitant to open this, it wasn't his. It’s everything Horace has ever seen in his prophetic dreams. This is an invasion of privacy, he couldn't open this. 

And he didn't have to. 

Enoch, becoming impatient, snatched the book from Jacob's hands, before unlatching it. 

A few pages fell to the floor, as Enoch opened to the last date. Skimming over the words, he's silent. After a few moments he handed Jake the journal. 

“It's about us.”

 

“‘As they grew closer, so did their physical relationship. Eventually it formed into something resembling a mutual partnership,’” Jake read, ignoring the flustered Enoch, who had fallen to the floor, covering his face. “Why does he have to make it so formal?” Enoch made a small noise in response. 

_ Cute. _

“‘Not long, it was difficult to find one without the other. When Jacob would leave, Enoch would become a reclusive, hiding away from everyone; locked down in his basement. And if Jake was left without Enoch, he'd become more introverted, he wouldn't speak often during group conversations, and could easily be found within a book.’” 

We’ _ re already like that.  _

It was a truth that Jake couldn't ignore. Enoch was more involved when Jacob was around, and around Enoch he felt at peace with himself. 

“Enoch?” 

“Cad?” Irish. His voice was soft, the accent only just hearable. 

“We're going to miss the reset.” Jake responded just as softly, attempting to change the conversation's topic. 

“Tá sé breá, ní féidir liom aghaidh a thabhairt orthu anois ar aon nós.” 

“Translate Enoch, I don't speak Irish.” His face slowly rose from its hiding space in his hands. It was slightly pale, but no longer blushing.

“It's fine.”

_ Is it? _

Maybe. Maybe it was completely fine to ignore the others. Them and their opinions. 

“Okay, we'll just go straight to bed.”

“Yeah.”


	5. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long wait here's the next chapter. We're getting to the rising action of the story.

When morning came, neither Enoch nor Jake got much sleep. Neither could sleep due to both the awkward silence and defending thoughts. 

Jake who, unlike his normal self was irritated, kept sighing every so often, as he read more of the the journal. The noises were pulling Enoch out of his own thoughts; not necessarily a terrible thing. 

“This isn't the only entry about us.” Jake finally breaks the air. His voice was soft, and wouldn't have been heard, had it not been quiet. “There's more toward the end.”  In response Enoch huffed. 

Looking up from the handwritten words, Jacob regretted saying anything. The male, sitting on the floor allowing Jake the bed, had clouded eyes. 

“Enoch?” He pushed the book aside, while calling out. Crawling to the edge of dusty bed, he attempted to reach out and comfort, but was rejected. 

Watching in slight pain, Jacob noted Enoch’s movements. They were groggy, yet deliberate. 

_ He's ignoring me. _

Did I do something? Or his he acting like this because of the dreams? 

 

After another moment of awkwardness, it clicked in Jacob's mind. 

_ Oh _

“Enoch. I understand, you're flustered,” A side glance from said male gave Jake a boost of determination, “but, maybe it be better if we um…”

Where was he going with this? He didn't want to leave this potentially violent boy by himself, especially after witnessing the way the others treated him. Nor did he want a nosy Emma to dig into things she didn't need to know; a damn certainty if he walked out now.

Luckily for Jacob he didn't have to. 

 

A rapid knock at the door and the concerned voice of Olive beckoned them.

“Enoch, Jacob! Hurry downstairs!” Footsteps leading away caused the two to look at the other confused. 

Dashing to the door, before unlocking it, they quickly made it down the stairs. On the couch was an awful looking woman. Her side bled against pale, yellowing skin. Her eyes just hardly open as her breathing labored. 

“Boys, the medical kit please.” Miss. Peregrine spoke rushed, she seemed tired. 

_ None of us got sleep. _

“Boys now, please.” Enoch grabbed Jake's arm, dragging him away. Pulled into the bathroom, Enoch mumbled about checking under the sink. They both looked for the iconic white box. 

Nothing.

“What the hell?” Enoch hissed, holding his hand up. Caught between his fingers was a small clay wad. Looking closer, it was moving. 

“What's that?” Jake asked, brows furrowed, before giving another glance around the cramped room. 

“It was what happened when I first came here. I lost the thing a long time ago. The others wanted to see what my abilities were and rummaged through my things.” Jake nodded, returning his gaze to Enoch and the clay. “They eventually figured it out and did this,” He gestured to the wad, “while I was sleeping.”

“Oh, that’s,” What was it? Frustrating? He didn’t know, so, he trailed off. 

“Yeah.” Enoch responded, before dropping the clay, and watching the thing scurry off with uncomfortable movements. 

“Boys!” Peregrine’s voice called out, breaking them from their thoughts. They both cursed and returned to looking. This time it didn't take long to find the white box. 

Returning to the two birds Enoch handed the med kit to Peregrine. She snatched it away before ushering them off. 

“Check on the children.” They both nodded and rushed off to find the others. 

 

They were huddled together in the living room. 

“What's happened?”

“Is she gonna be alright?” 

Enoch shushed them, but all eyes were on Jake, each watching his movements intently. 

“We, um..” He looked to Enoch for help, but was met with just as intense eyes; his were hard compared to the other's. “We don't know.” Jake admitted, voice low. 

“Oh dear,” Olive’s voice cried out. She was in the back of the room, holding onto a small bar railing that was installed onto the wall. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“We can do as the Bird says.” Enoch responded, surprising everyone. “If she said to stay put, we stay.” And everyone seemed to agree. 

Everyone but  _ Emma _ . 

“Since when do  _ you  _ take orders from the Bird?” Her tone was mocking, and irritated. “We know what did this! We shouldn't be standing around doing nothing!”

The room suddenly became disturbingly hot. The source was Emma herself. Her hands were lit red with burning flames, hot enough that they burnt through her gloves. Flecks of ash fell into the air, before descending all around her. 

“And then what?” Enoch asked, sill calm, even with his teeth clenched. “What's to stop a Hollow from entering and killing us, or the ymbrynes that we just leave here!” His words cut through the air. 

It was everyone's thoughts, Jake even shuttered, remembering the sight of one. They were creepy. 

_ No.  _ It was worse than that. 

They are  _ nightmarish.  _

Creatures that haunted Jake's nights for months after Abe’s death. Eyeless, hungry, hunters that feast on anything they can find. Nothing satisfies them, leaving them searching for the rest of eternity. 

“What would you know. You've never cared for anyone but yourself,” It was clear she hadn't finished her sentence. 

“What? If your going to say something, finish it. Finish your little spout of angered fit. You may as well burn the damn house down with your stupid anger.” Enoch wasn't shouting, no. His voice was frustrated and pissed, but not loud. Never loud. 

Emma glared, never looking away. But her flames licked against the sleeves of her dress, tinting the white, black. 

Then she spoke. 

“Your unholy obsession.” Her eyes didn't flicker to clay, or Enoch's hands, but to Jake. The fire surged, reaching up to her hair. It lit itself, but didn't singe. 

The other had stepped back at this point, fearful. Jake himself was afraid. This wasn't Emma. 

_ But it is.  _

“Speak for yourself.” Enoch retorted, hands twitching, aching to claw at her throat. 

Red eyes attacked steel ones, both on different sides of the room, but both just at dangerous. 

“Both of you stop it!” A voiced called out, causing them all to turn and look for the source. 

Nothing. 

Millard. 

“Miss Peregrine is in there taking care of one of our own, and yet here you are almost destroying the house and rendering all her effort wasted!” 

It was Enoch who stepped down first, hands instinctively reaching for the male behind him. Jake hesitated. 

Does he not care anymore? Or does he even realize?  _ Enoch? _

Jacob grabbed his hand, gently, giving him a few moments to retreat. 

He didn't. 

So Jacob squeezed, and Enoch grasped back, tighter. 

Emma's gaze was cast at their hands, flames still showing her anger, but they no longer threatened the integrity of the home. 

“Better.” Millard spoke, actively ignoring the affection. “Now, we have another problem. The other ymbryne, Nightjar, she's fine, but she was followed.” 

“Hollows?” Olive spoke, still connected to the rail. 

“We think.” 

The younger of the group all rounded together and left for the kitchen, muttering about making food for the Birds. 

All that was left were, Horace, Millard, Emma, Olive and Enoch with Jake. 

“Can we do nothing about them?” Jake spoke, voice shaky. 

“They're already inside the loop. But I think they're in the town looking for us. So, we're safe for now, but it's only a matter of time.” Millard answered, tossing on a hat that Horace tossed to him. 

What could they do? Peregrine had to care for the ymbryne. What should they do?

After several moments of silence, Olive spoke, “Enoch do we still have the old circus puppets?” Enoch blinked, then nodded. “Good. Horace if you would be kind enough to hand me my shoes?” Horace compiled, picking up a pair of leaded shoes. He helped putting them on. Floating down to the floor, her feet gently touched with a soft tap, before she walked off. 

They watched her leave, her plan finally clicking in their minds. 


	6. Day 5

It was morning by the time they had finished completing Olive's plan. 

Enoch pushed everyone away, locking himself in the basement to work on the puppets. Olive took Horace to make some clothing to help them blend in with the common townsfolk. Which left Emma with Jake to board up the house. 

Silence passed over them, making the air thick. Jake could see the irritation in Emma's movements, she had to dip her hands in water every few minutes to keep from setting things on fire. 

“Emma?” Jacob eventually spoke up, putting down his things and glancing at her. She had been holding a wrench, using it as a makeshift hammer, it was bright red. Emma refused to look up, just staring at the tool. 

“What makes him better than me?” 

_ What? _

There was nothing better about Enoch than Emma. 

“He's not better than you. I- What do you mean?” Emma's glare pierced, she threw the wrench into her bucket of water before storming up to him. 

“Than what is it? Why did you choose him over me?” Her voice was hurt and confused. 

And Jake had to think. 

Why was he choosing Enoch over Emma? 

“E-Emma I, I don't-” Another voice cut him off.

“It's because you act like an entitled prat.” They both turned to the sound. In the well kept doorway was an exhausted Enoch. Black bags rested under his eyes, his hair was stuck to his forehead, dust covered him, but his voice was awake. “It's because you have an obsession with Jake because he looks like Abe, you haven't even sat down and gotten to know him. You haven't even tried. You only pretend that you do, so you can cling to him like a baby sloth. Which is how slow you are to realize this yourself.”

Jake was surprised, he let out a shaky breath. When did he hold his breath? 

Emma was breathing however, heavily. Luckily this time her flames were nonexistent, but her face was pale.

“You can't even deny it.” Enoch huffed, pushing himself off the wall. His movements were groggy as he stepped up to Emma. Reaching out toward her, she winced. 

“Don't touch me.” Enoch dropped his hand. Emma's eyes were wide as she stared at the necromancer. “You're disgusting.”

 

A loud crack echoed through the room. 

Emma had stepped over a line Jake didn't realize he had set. 

His hand burned, and Emma had a mark against her cheek. Enoch had stepped back in surprise, mouth agape. 

“Don't you ever say that to him again.” Violence wasn't who Jake was, but pure disappointment and anger dripped from his words. “Get out.” 

She ran out, tears welled up in her eyes. And honestly Jake felt no remorse. Slumping against the closest wall, Jake sild down to the floor. Watching closely, Enoch sat next to him. 

“Hey.” Enoch called out, hand resting on Jake's back. “Jacob, hey. Answer me?” Jake looked up after he was shaken. They just stared at each other, Enoch had adoration in his, and Jake had desire, behind the irritation in his eyes. “Thank you.” 

Jake attached himself to the male in a hug. He hated the way Emma treated him, he hated that the Bird locked him away when he really needed someone. And then the way the others ignored him and assumed he was outrageously violent, it just make Jake wince. 

“Jacob.” Enoch called out again, a smile visibly heard. Jake shook his head. 

“Can we sit here like this for awhile?” He felt Enoch tense momentarily, before relaxing, wrapping his arms around Jacob. 

“Okay.”

 

When they seperated it was because Olive and Horace had returned. 

“Do you guys know why Emm-  _ Oh.”  _ Horace stopped, causing Enoch and Jake to jump apart, both blushing. Olive giggled, before tossing them a handful of clothes. 

“Here. They'll help us blend in better. Did you finish barricading the house?” Even with the outbursts Emma and Jake had managed to finish the house, so he nodded. “Good. All that's left then is to get dressed and set up the puppets.” 

 

Which they did without much issues. Enoch had brought the lion-like dolls to life and they prowled along the perimeter of the home. Another doll, which reminded Jake of a rotting dog, was set up on the roof to act as look out. 

“Now that that's done, we need to get the others into the basement.” Enoch scoffed. 

“What?” Olive rolled her eyes, arms crossed. 

“Into. The. Basement. It's the most protected room in the house.”

“It won't fit everyone.” Enoch was right, it hardly fit Jake and him. The room was crowded and badly packed full of shelves tables and objects. Not to mention the musty vinegar smell. The only window down there let in such little light, since it was caked with grime, that candles were melted to the floor and tables everywhere. 

“Enoch's right. Olive there is no way everyone will fit.” She huffed. 

“Alright, it'll fit everyone who wants to stay behind. Anyone willing to come help in the fight will be welcome to.”

Fight?

“Olive you can't be serious? I thought we were going out to see if any Hollows had come through so we could leave and make a new loop?” She shrugged. 

We're gonna get killed. 

She will lead us to our death. 

 

The town was still as small and paranoid as it was before. With same repeating events everyday, the peculiars knew the best way into town without being seen. Once inside, they stuck to Jake, since he was the only one able to see the creatures. 

Not a lot came along with them, the twins and Bronwyn. It took a few minutes, but Enoch and Jacob convinced Horace to stay behind, for multiple reasons. Emma was nowhere to be seen after the confrontation, which left them all wondering. 

“So what exactly are we doing?” Jake asked Olive, who had a hand on his shoulder, keeping low to the ground, since they abandoned her shoes and tied a rope around her waist which Bronwyn was holding onto. 

“Trying to find any, and keep track of them, and maybe if we get the chance kill them?” Jake furrowed his brows. 

“But isn't Golan here? If the Hollows can find the entrance he definitely can.”

Everyone paused, eyes wide.

They hadn't thought of that. 

“He's a shapeshifter too, i dtigh diabhail.” Enoch hissed. He was next to Jake, fingers gripping Jacob's sleeve, but not his hand. 

 

There was nothing,  _ at all _ , within the town. No Hollows, nor anything out of place. 

“What the hell?”

“Language Jake.” He huffed, arms crossed and his eyes gilded over the area around him. Still nothing. 

“Should we just go back to the house?” Enoch shook his head no. 

“No. If they're not in the town they may be in the forest, or the bog. Not the house, it'll take them longer than that to find the house.”

“Then to the bog?” Enoch scoffed. 

“Yes lets take the male who's never maneuvered the bog to said bog.” Jake glared at Enoch, who smirked. “I'm not wrong though.”

“No. But, I'm the only one who can see them.” Enoch rolled his eyes. 

“Even still. One wrong step…” His voice trailed off, looking away from Jake. 

_ I know _

“Olive’s here. She could always pull me out if need be.” This statement resulted in two things. Olive hissing out “I'm not your personal servant” and Enoch smacking Jake upside the head. A bodiless laugh rang through the air, making them all chuckle. 

“Fine. I could stay off to the side while you guys go into the bog, that way I can still see you.” Olive shrugged, leaving the decision up to Enoch. 

He watched Jacob with darkened eyes. Steel cut into his mind, it wasn't invasive, but it was searching for something. Jake didn't expect anything, since Enoch was unpredictable; in his own way. But when a moment passed with no movement or words, Jake shifted nervously. What was Enoch thinking, what is he looking for?

“No.” The tension in the air was cut, delicately, the strings falling to the ground before dissolving into the soil. “Olive, Millard go back to the house.” They both emitted a confused whine. “Just go.” Neither of them spoke until they're final footsteps were heard.

“Enoch?”

“We need to find the Hollow.” Enoch marched off, toward the forest, avoiding confrontation and the bog. Jacob rushed to his side, before tugging on his wrist to stop. 

He didn't. 

“Enoch, seriously what do you plan on doing?” No response. “God damnit Enoch just talk to me.” Enoch paused, but didn't say anything. “At least look at me.” The male turned, his eyes losing they're dark hue, and becoming tired. Jake sighed, moving closer before opening his arms. Enoch watched him with confusion, but his eyes then widened at the sudden invitation. With hesitant movements he stepped closer, before accepting Jake's hug. 

“I can't lose you.” His voice was small and shaken. Broken as he feared what could happen. 

“I'm here right now aren't I?” Jake's voice was no better. Whispered, as if it was a secret lie told from the deepest pits of his mind. Even through the hectic nature that surround the peculiars, he did think over his own safety; even his own demise. 

It wasn't necessarily going to happen, but it was a possibility. His own death resulted by Hollows, or even the Peculiars themselves. They were all powerful, even if they hadn't realized it yet. Anything could happen. 

He knew that. 

_ So why is it just now dawning on him? _

“You..” Enoch began, looking up at the taller male in front of him. “You're like us too. Your own peculiarity.” Jake furrowed his brows. He suspected since he was the only one able to see the Hollows, but hearing it confirmed was different. “Yet, you're so different, we're all the same stuck in our loops without ever being able to see the world or grow old.” He sounded jealous. 

“Do you want to grow old? Die outside of a loop, live the world outside of one day?” Jake asked. 

“I honestly have no idea. Not anymore. It's been too long since my time.”

“Yet things have changed for the better.” Enoch looked hopeful, before his face flushed and he mumbled under his breath. “Repeat yourself.” It wasn't a question. 

“An bhfuil siad fós faoi chúram? Má d'fhág mé, an mbeadh cúram orthu go bhfuilim i ngrá leat?” Jake sighed, a small amused smile resting on his tired face.

“I don't speak Irish, potato boy. Translate.” Enoch pouted, before speaking, voice soft. 

“Do people still care about,” he paused.

“Being gay, homosexual?” Enoch nodded hesitantly. “Not really anymore. It's still taboo, but you're not condemned anymore.” 

Enoch's face lit up violently into a devilishly relieved grin. 

_ Hello adorable.  _

“Come on, if we don't find the Hollow soon there may be nothing to go to.” Enoch's smile faltered momentarily, but he continued to grin in the most uncharacteristic way. 

“Jacob?” He questioned suddenly. 

“Yes?”

“Am I allowed to kiss you?”

_ When did he get so forwarded? _

“If we find that Hollow you can have more than just a kiss.”


	7. Day 5 Part 2

Said Hollow had managed to find its way to the house. Not inside, but close enough that the lion puppets were becoming aggressively defensive.

“So much for them not being able to find the house.” Jacob hissed in a hushed voice. Enoch grumbled an apology, before leading Jake into the house from the back.

Or tried to.

While the Hollow was in the front of the house, keeping the attention of the guardians and lookout, in the back the blind bird watcher.

Jacob stopped Enoch in their tracks, pressing them up to a tree.

“Damnit. Golan is here.” Pointing to the male, scouting his way into the home, Jake kept silent. Enoch's gaze tore away from Golan and to the house itself.

There was only two ways in from the ground floor, if you didn't count the currently boarded up windows. Neither Jake nor Enoch could reach high enough to grab the roof.

_Shit._

They prepared so nothing could get in easily, not even themselves.

Then Enoch hit Jake's chest, pulling him from his thoughts. Cobalt curiously watched Enoch, as he clearly thought of something.

“We left the basement window alone.”

The basement. Enoch's home. Covered in clay and dust, refusing to allow light. If everyone did as asked of them, they could enter the house with ease through the basement window.

First they had to get over there.

The basement covered the bottom of most of the house, it had to, otherwise everything crammed inside wouldn't fit. Yet, the window, the lone window, was clear on the other side of the house from the two.

The home, surrounded by a large forest, the only forest of the island, cleared out of trees to make way for a boarding home and garden. And luckily the garden stretched out most of the backside. Making just enough cover, due to the hedges to reach the window.

Enoch hurried them behind the flora. Jake watched the area, being carefully dragged along, Enoch's hand within his. Hyper aware, Jake’s breathing echoed in his ears like drums. A thump that threatened to burst.

“Jake.” Enoch's voice cut through it all. Like always the male could calm him with a single sound.

“Yeah?”

“Window.” Enoch tapped on the glass, and Jake could see blurred shuffling behind the grime. It took some effort, enough so that Bronwyn had to open it herself. They slipped inside and silently closed the glass.

“Boys!” The Bird cried, relieved. Her arms widespread before she held them in a hug.

“Hi.” Jake called, tugging himself away, a smile on his face.

“Where were you? Olive and the other's got back ages ago?” She cried out, her tone lecturing, but still motherly.

“We were looking for the Hollows. They're outside the house, same as Golan.” Her expression darkened at the words.

It wasn't the prettiest of sights, as she had messy hair and smudged makeup. Her voice was horse as she spoke. “They found us.”

Jake swallowed at the words, as Enoch nodded. They had both tensed instinctively reaching out for each other, and toward the Bird.

“We need to leave.”

“But how?” A voice called out, Horace. “If we leave the loop we'll all rapidly age within minutes.”

_Right._

Jake had forgotten about that detail. But, it wasn't impossible, right? It couldn't be.

“Peregrine you can make another loop outside of this one right? If we leave, and make a new loop would it work?” Everyone's eyes widened and their gaze landed on the Bird. Her pale features were wrapped up in thought. Eventually she opened her eyes and glaced hesitantly at Jake.

“I am not sure.” A whisper. A deafening whisper in the pen drop silent room. “I do not know if it's possible.”

“But could it, in theory work? Since we wouldn’t be outside the frame of time for long?” She looked helpless. Moments passed, with the sounds of the wandering Hollows the only noise. Then, she let out a sigh.

“Whether it's possible or not, I am willing to try.” Then she gave a weak nod, not sure, but willing. “Alright.” Standing to her full height, she inspected each body within the room. Which was a lot.  “In order for this to work,” a look of inspired desperation crossed her face, “I will need the combined effort of all of you.” 

In a single moment the room was filled with happy and excited yips and shouts as everyone gave an ‘understood.’


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait. Here's the next part. It's a bit shorter than the others, because the next one I'm planning on it being quite long.

Not long had passed before Peregrine had begun spouting orders to the group of children. And even with many still looking, and acting like a child none whined or complained, due to the threat of Hollows right outside. 

“Right,” Olive began, “so with Huge and Bronwyn, and I believe the twins working as distraction. Wildly unsafe, I would like to add, we do what?” She asked, walking up to Enoch. The male glanced at Jacob, asking silently an unknown question. Yet, still Jake wanted to clarify and comfort him, in order to remove his expression. 

“Well, your job is to both keep everyone calm and together, as well as get them all out of the loop before the Hollows or Golan notice.” 

It's a ludicrous plan that relies on everything going exactly right, but what else did they really have? Hollows aren't easy to kill nor can they just keep running. 

So, a half-assed idea of potentially trapping them in this loop is the best they've got. 

“Goodness Jacob, you're putting quite a lot of faith in my abilities!” Olive cried as the reality of the situation clicks for her. With a shrug, Jake gave a small apologetic gaze. “Oh. I see. Let's hope everything goes and ends well.” She smiled, before giving her leave to round up everyone she's in charge of. 

“Jacob?” Enoch softly asks, eyes still trained on Olive. The younger boy gave a noise of response, before placing a hand on Enoch’s shoulder. “Do you really think this will work?” And in that moment Jacob wanted to cry. 

_ That noise.  _

How is it that someone as straight face and collected as Enoch can suddenly make a noise as defeated and afraid in a single sentence? 

“Yes. Everything will go to plan.” 

_ Lies.  _

Of course they both know this, but Enoch relaxed under those words, giving Jacob his own small sense of comfort. 

“I'm giving 10 minutes to us all to collect our things.” The Bird then spoke up, grabbing everyone's attention. “Please only the necessities if you will.” 

Everyone nodded, before filing out of the basement with haste. They had to be quick and quiet otherwise the Hollows would pry their way into the house. 

Luckily Hollows have the same level of intelligence as a hungry dog. 

_ Or so it seems. _

 

But now. Now Enoch and Jacob had moments to themselves. Even if it was only 10 minutes. 

As Jake watched the last of the Peculiars leave through the small door frame, he felt Enoch’s lingering stare. And then the air of the musty room once more became almost too thick to breathe properly. 

Jake continued to stare at the now closed door, his thoughts racing. He felt his own heartbeat stutter as he listed all the ways this could go wrong. 

_ And there are a lot. _

As he sat lost in his own fabric of reality, Enoch approached. He wasn't trying to be quiet, yet Jake hadn't noticed him. 

Honestly? He even forgot he wasn't alone currently. 

 

Jacob was no stranger to being alone. For a year after Abe died no one wanted to be near the hallucinating weird kid. But, Jake wasn't hallucinating. The Hollows had stalked him, watching him from widows in the middle of the night. He had stayed awake, with a mixture of caffeine, sugar, and different medications. 

It was stupid but,  _ hey he was paranoid.  _

“Jake?” Enoch called out, voice lingering as a whisper. Jake had heard, but his eyes were locked on the stained floor. Enoch called out once more, reaching a pale hand out to rest on Jake's shoulder. When they touched, Jake felt how shakey Enoch was. 

_ Honestly, he was too.  _

“Jake? We…” He trailed off, clearly not knowing what to do or say. Jacob wanted to break down, just curl up in the corner and pretend none of this was happening. 

_ But, he couldn't. _

“Enoch go get your things.” Jake whispered, although no one else was there. Enoch was silent, hand still resting on his shoulder. He hesitated before giving out a shaky breath. Enoch moved from the older male, and began to ascend the stairs. He paused at the top. And before opening the door, he glanced back, his steel clouded  eyes locking with Jake's wary icy blues. 

_ “Is mise mo chara is fearr leat, agus is breá liom tú.” _


End file.
